The Traumas of School Days

I never had a chance at having a perfect attendance record in my school career. It's not that I was sick a lot. The truth is, I skipped my very first day of Kindergarten. That's right, I skipped it. I was a very shy 5 year old. (I know, I know it's hard to believe that now.) I was terrified of being away from my mom for that long. No doubt I carried on and cried my eyes out. Since I was the baby of the family, my mom gave in and let me stay home with her that first day. Not that it really helped me any. I just had to face my fears the next day. It helped that my kindergarten teacher was so nice. Mrs. Schroeder was a natural at teaching kindergartners. I quickly settled in that first day that I actually went to school. All was going well, until nap time. I laid down on my blue and red nap mat and quickly fell asleep. The next thing I knew, I felt something hit me. I awoke to the boys in the class throwing bean bags at me. Of course I burst into tears. It worked to my advantage though, as Mrs. Schroeder let me sit on her lap until I calmed down. I think I kept one eye open during nap time for the rest of the school year.

I did have a couple of other rather traumatic things happen to me in kindergarten. The first was at our Halloween party. This was in the early 1970's when kids were allowed to wear full face masks that had just eye holes. Mother took me to the Ben Franklin store in town and let me choose a mask. Being a farm girl, I chose a cow mask. That was my costume...a cow mask, nothing else. I was proud of that mask and couldn't wait for the school party. Then the worst possible thing happened. Two other girls in my class had Raggedy Ann costumes. And they were full costumes: mask and outfit. I still liked my cow mask better, but those Raggedy Ann girls started dancing in a circle together and wouldn't let a cow join in. I don't remember, but I bet I ended up on Mrs. Schroeder's lap that day too.

One of the biggest honors in kindergarten was being chosen to hold the flag during the daily reciting of The Pledge of Allegiance. It seemed like I waited forever for my turn to sit on the little stool and hold the flag. Finally, my day arrived. What I hadn't realized was how heavy that flag and pole with it's pointy end would be. And the pledge seemed to go on forever that day. Before I knew it, my arms couldn't take that terrible weight any more. As my arms gave out, the pointy tip on the pole of the flag hit another little girl on the head, which made her cry. Mrs. Schroeder asked me if I hit the girl on purpose. Apparently I wasn't too bright at age 5, because I didn't know what "on purpose" meant. So naturally, I started crying once again. And of course, then I got to sit on Mrs. Schroeder's lap again.

Some how I managed to survive and pass kindergarten. I then moved from the public school to St. John's Lutheran School for the next eight years of my education. Most of those years are a blur to me, but there are a few highlights and lowlights that stand out. My very favorite thing about first and second grade was the Animal Cookie poem. We would recite it and then get a snack of animal crackers. In my mind, this happened every day, but it probably wasn't that often. We once were given the assignment of writing the whole poem. I still have mine. It's pretty funny to see the way I spelled things back then.

During my early years at St. Johns, the girls were required to wear dresses, except on Fridays when we could wear pants. Perhaps this is where "casual Fridays" originated. Mother would dress us in home sewn dresses and knee socks. The stylish girls in my class always wore tights. Oh how I longed for a pair or two of colorful tights. They seemed so dressy and cute. Mother insisted that knee socks were more practical and would keep my legs warmer. Still, I begged and begged for a pair of tights. Finally, Mother cracked and bought me a pair of kelly green tights. I was so excited. The next day I wore them to school along with my favorite dress that was also kelly green with little wooden shoes in many colors on it. Finally I fit in with the stylish girls. Well, at least until I managed to get a huge hole in one leg of the tights. I don't remember how it happened, but I felt terrible. Mother was right, knee socks were more practical and lasted longer than tights. I knew that Mother had spent money on that pair of tights and now I had ruined them. I don't remember what she said to me when I got home that day, but I know I never asked for, or received, another pair of tights. To this day, when I think back to those tights, I get a guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I distinctly remember other girls in my class wetting themselves during class. We'd be learning about something and suddenly we'd hear a little tinkle sound. I never understood why they didn't raise their hand to go to the bathroom. Maybe wearing tights let the cold air hit them too quickly to raise their hand. I can proudly say that I never wet myself at school. However, what happened to me is even worse.

In those days, at St. John's, there was no hot lunch served. We had to bring our own lunch from home. We would eat it at our desks before heading out for recess. Many days, Mother would send us to school with a thermos full of Campbell's soup. This was in the day that thermoses had a glass insert. If you dropped your lunch box, the glass inside the thermos would shatter. One day I was eating my soup during lunch time and turned around to tell my friend a joke: "Why did Santa Claus only use 7 reindeer last year? Because he left Comet home to clean the sink!" After telling the punch line, I turned back around in my seat and knocked over my thermos of piping hot Campbell's Bean with Bacon soup. It spilled all over my pants (it must have been a Friday if I was wearing pants.) Mrs. Jacobson rushed me into the bathroom and told me to get out of my pants. She then instructed me to stay in the bathroom while she took my pants to the house next door, where she would have the principal's wife wash and dry my pants for me. She brought me back a pair of the principal's wife's pants for me to wear while mine were washed. The pants were huge on me. The principal's wife was not a big woman, but she was bigger than the average 3rd grader. At the time, I was sure she had sent a pair of maternity pants for me to wear. After this trauma during lunch, the other kids were being extra nice to me and asked me to go out and play kick ball with them. I was too afraid that the huge pants I was wearing would fall down, so I opted for indoor recess that day.

Another day during 3rd grade I stayed home sick. When I came back to school, I had to make up an art project that was going to be a Christmas present for Mother and Daddy. The other students projects were on display and when I saw them I panicked. They were cute tiny little felt covered bibles, about the size of a bar of soap. On the cover of the Bible, was a cross made of sequins. I wondered how on earth I would ever be able to get the entire Bible written in time for Christmas. I was quite relieved when my teacher showed me that the Bible actually was a bar of soap covered in felt with a ribbon around the edge that looked like pages. Wow...it was a fabulous art project to look so real. My Bible was displayed in the living room at the farm for years.

During one of my later years at St. John's we had a spelling bee. The winner would go to a regional spelling bee at Luther High in Onalaska. It was down to me and one other girl. I don't remember the word that I was given, but the truth was, I didn't want to go to the regional spelling bee, so I spelled the word incorrectly, on purpose. And yes, by this time I knew what the words "on purpose" meant. The other girl was thrilled to go to the regionals and I never told her that I let her win, so it all worked out.

When I was going into one of my last years of high school, Mother and I went school supply shopping in LaCrosse. We were at Shopko and I spotted an outfit that I just had to have. It was navy blue corduroy pants, a blue checked blouse and a navy blue corduroy blazer. I begged for it. Mother told me that it was more than she ever spent on an outfit for any of the other kids. She had no problem buying me the pants and the blouse, but asked if I would actually ever wear the blazer. That was the most expensive part of the outfit. I promised that I would wear it a lot. She broke down and bought it for me. Once again, she was right. I wore the pants and blouse often, but probably only wore that blazer a couple of times. I still feel guilty about convincing her to buy that blazer for me.

Many years have passed since my school days. When my twins started pre-school, Lauren was excited to go. Evan (my baby by one minute) was terrified. He wanted to stay home with me. I knew from experience that if he stayed home, he would just have to face his fears the next day. I forced him to go. And it took many weeks before his teacher no longer had to pry him out of my arms when I dropped him off at preschool. After my dad died, Lauren had fears about going to school and being away from me. She wanted to stay home with me. Once again, I knew she would have to face her fears some time and I made her go. I admit that I shed a few tears after making them go to school. And I am willing to bet that Mother shed a few when she made me go to school on the second day of kindergarten.

As for those guilty feelings I still get about the pair of tights and the blazer, I bet Mother had forgotten about both of them shortly after they happened.  She'd probably tell me that it was her own fault for buying them. I bet that years from now, my own kids will confess guilt they feel over something they convinced me to buy for them. And I probably will have long forgotten it as well.